Rosethorn's Haircut Mishap
by Cranky Crocus
Summary: Rosethorn didn't always have short hair why does she now?


"There is no way that this is good," Rosethorn mumbled and dropped her scissors. "A hat. I _need_ a hat," she growled as she fumbled around her workroom for her wide rimmed farming hat. She also grabbed a large, square cloth and tied it around her head before adorning the hat.

The stocky young woman nearly ran to her dear friend's room, and in a frenzied way. She managed to slow right before she would have tumbled into the cloth walled workroom. Her voice was concerned and weak when she spoke, "Lark--I have a bit of a problem..."

The tall, willowy dedicate with curly black hair and a cat-like face, Lark, looked up. A puzzled expression immediately took over her features at the sight of her stocky, thorny earth dedicate friend wearing both a head scarf _and _a hat. Rosethorn usually adored her hair, and wouldn't go through this sort of trouble to hide it. Unless... Lark pushed her workings aside and stood abruptly before walking to the shorter woman.

"What _kind _of problem?" Lark asked softly and took up Rosethorn's hand reassuringly.

"A sort of humiliating hair problem," Rosethorn replied slowly, and she blushed. "Will you help me fix it?"

The thread mage attempted to hide a grin as she began to realize what Rosethorn could have done. "Of course, Rosethorn."

"Thank you," Rosethorn said and began to walk towards her workshop. Lark followed closely behind, still attempting to mask a grin.

When the two reached the room, Rosethorn picked up the scissors from the floor, handed them to Lark, and sat down in a chair facing one of the windows. The plant mage then removed the hat and head scarf to reveal quite a mess of hair. The cut looked ragged, and the length was different in nearly every spot. In one section the hair looked razored all the way up at the nape of her neck.

"Oh, Rosethorn. What possessed you to do this? Your hair was so long and beautiful," Lark spoke softly, in awe with the situation before her.

"I thought it was about time for a change," Rosethorn said stubbornly, and crossed her arms over her chest. A sarcastic grin spread over her lips. "I just didn't think I'd make this bad of a hair cutter."

The standing woman laughed, wielded the scissors, and began to snip at Rosethorn's hair. Lark spoke with amusement layering her voice, "I never expected such a startling change! The job does remind me of thread work, though."

Rosethorn twitched, wincing as she truly began to recognize that the fragments of her long, lustrous hair was being cut from her head and was falling down her back. It wouldn't be growing back any time soon.

"Done," Lark said with finality and walked around to look at Rosethorn from the front. The tall female messed around with her friends hair for a moment, playing with different styles. At last she made a small 'Ahah!' sound and nodded approvingly.

"I'll go get my looking glass," she stated before walking out of the workshop. Rosethorn fingered her new hair, attempting to predict what it would look like. When Lark re-entered the room, a circular looking glass framed in gold and jeweled at the handle was in her grasp. Nostalgia lingered in her voice, "It's from my tumbling days; I never had the heart to sell it. Someone very dear to me gave it to me as a gift many years ago."

Rosethorn nodded and grinned, liking the feeling of her hair brushing her forehead like a bird's feather. Her hair felt light and playful, beautiful and cute in an elegantly boyish way. Her grin looked vibrant with her new hair, but it was still darling, mocking, and daring. Pretty, as well. One could not miss the cute curl of her lips and the way it lit up the rest of her face.

Lark just stared for a moment, then circled her shoulders to release herself from the trance Rosethorn's grin had brought about. The thread mage smiled warmly and handed the mirror over without hesitation.

The seated dedicate brought the looking glass up to her face slowly and then gaped, mouth open, at what she saw. Her hair was stunning. The color was darker and more brown than it had seemed before, but it was still chestnut in color. Lark had parted it on the left, and the hair was longer where it fell onto her forehead on the right. It didn't just fall, either. It waved and curled over her eyebrow and caught the light where it curled outward. There was some hair in front of her ears and it was messily placed but attractive. She could feel more waves around her head, both on the sides and in back.

Rosethorn stood abruptly and wrapped her arms around Lark, careful of the looking glass. As the now short-haired woman stepped back, she picked up Lark's hand and wrapped the long, graceful fingers around the handle of the looking glass.

"Thank you, Lark. This change was exactly what I was looking for," Rosethorn said in gratitude. Her hair had already changed, but something else about the two was still changing.

Author's Notes: This story is based right after Lark arrives and is put in Discipline with Rosethorn. They are not a couple, though there are multiple hints of feelings. In this story Rosethorn is around twenty five, and Lark somewhere from twenty-seven to thirty. Lark's age is never really clear in the books, though Rosethorn's age and history are.


End file.
